


So Close and Still So Far

by Hammocker



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Crying, Emotional Baggage, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hammocker/pseuds/Hammocker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon seeing what really happened to his parents, Tony has a bit of a different breakdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Close and Still So Far

**Author's Note:**

> Throughout the entirety of the climax of Civil War my thought process went something like, "No, no, Tony, what are you doing, stop, you're making this worse, you're stronger than this, stop" and ever since then I've been thinking about what else could have been done. I don't usually like to write fix-it type things since they just depress me because the canon is still canon, but this doesn't really change the ultimate outcome much, so I figured what the hell.
> 
> I haven't read anything else along these lines and I generally isolate myself from a good portion of the fandom so if this seems similar to anything, it's likely coincidence.

Tony watched as the grainy tape played out, throat tight and muscles tensed. His heart only raced faster and faster as it went on. He wanted to look away, look at anything else in the decrepit old bunker, but his eyes were glued to the screen. It went by so quickly, a blur of movement and too clear faces and sheer brutality. Suddenly the deaths of his parents wasn’t just chance. The whole accident wasn’t an accident and Steve’s friend from the past had carried out the entire thing. He didn’t immediately process that. It was too much information in too little time in the worst possible way he could have received it. Everything about the situation was as awful as it could possibly be and he knew that somewhere in his brain, but he still felt anger and sadness and pain bubbling up from his gut.

“Did you know?” Tony asked, refusing to look at Steve.

“I didn’t know it was him.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers!” Tony hissed through his teeth, turning to glare at his “friend.” “Did you know or not?”

He already knew the answer. The twitching, tight frown on Steve’s face told him that much. But he had to hear it. God he wanted Steve to say no, wanted him to deny it so Tony could scream at him and make him scream back. Wanted Steve to throw the first punch.

“Yes. I knew,” Steve finally said, gaze cast downward.

Tony felt sick. Steve had lied to him. Not outright, bald-faced lied, but lied by omission all the same. How could Steve do that to him? About something so close to his heart no less. The one person he thought he could really, truly rely on had been lying to him for God only knew how long and now how could he ever trust anyone ever again? If Steve goddamn Rogers couldn’t tell him something this important up front, who would?

He turned to look at Bucky, to glare weakly at him. Bucky met his eyes, silently betraying his guilt. Tony knew it wasn’t really his fault. Knew his anger at the poor bastard wasn’t fair. He just needed someone else to blame right then and Bucky happened to be the easy target.

Tony lunged at Bucky, looking to land a punch or two to his face and chest and wherever he could. It wasn’t a calculated attack, more the flailing of a petulant child. Even with the suit on, he wasn’t likely to do much damage. Bucky blocked each blow with practiced ease and little complaint. That only lasted a moment before Bucky seemed to realize the nature of Tony’s attack and let his arms fall at his sides. He looked so goddamn sad and pathetic up close and that only made Tony want to beat it out of him harder.

“Tony,” Steve’s soft voice said from behind.

Tony heard Steve, but blood was rushing in his ears and he was busy wailing on Bucky’s painfully durable midsection and mug. He felt tears welling up in his eyes as well, but made himself ignore them. If he just kept punching Bucky, maybe the pain would go away. Maybe he’d feel a little better about himself. Maybe...

“Tony, for God’s sake, come here.”

He felt a hand wrap around his bicep and allowed it to pull him away from Bucky. Tony howled at the interruption, but it was cut off as Steve pulled him into a hug. It was awkward, with both of them still in their armor, but Steve managed to keep him close, leaning down so they were almost level with each other. He’d taken off his mask, trying to level the playing field, of course. No point keeping it on when Tony was in such a sorry state he couldn’t even punch right. 

“I’m sorry, Tony, I’m so sorry.”

Tony wanted to tell him that he had no right to say that, to be touching him like he was. But Steve shouldn’t have to be sorry. He didn’t deserve to be sorry or to be yelled at. Tony was the one who needed to apologize. He never apologized for anything. He’d been selfish, he’d been egotistical, he fucked up constantly, he never appreciated what he had, never stood up for what he believed in. He didn’t even know what he believed in half the time. Steve had always been good at giving him something to strive for. He was so goddamn steadfast and Tony loved that, but he hated it too, and now Steve had broken his entire perception. But then, that was only what he deserved. Tony had prodded him about his dark side after all. He hated Steve right then, but he hated himself more. Why did he have to be so stupid and indecisive?

“It hurts,” he choked out, tears stinging his eyes.

“I know,” Steve said.

Tony felt like shouting at him, punching him, telling him that no, he didn’t know. How could he know? Steve did know, though, Tony knew that. Steve knew the pain of loss just as much, if not more than he did, and had always handled it a hundred times better than Tony did. It made Tony feel so worthless.

Tony pulled out of his grasp and Steve let him without a fight. He drew up into himself, doing his best to hold back further tears. Bucky had backed off from both of them and was standing near the door.

“It’s hurt for 25 goddamn years and I just can’t let it go,” Tony continued, words barely a whimper. A bitter, broken laugh escaped from his throat between muted sobs. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with _you_ ,” Steve answered, like it was the most obvious thing he’d ever said in his life. “Things happen. We make mistakes and we hurt, whether it’s worth it or not. That doesn’t make us bad or weak, it makes us people. And you’re a good, strong person, Tony, I know that.”

“No. I’m a horrible person,” Tony whimpered, shaking his head. “People die because of me, because I don’t think and I don’t listen and...”

“No, no, Tony, don’t say that,” Steve said, putting his arms back around Tony. “You’ve done so much for everyone. You’re the most- the smartest, most inventive, most selfless person I’ve ever met. I mean, God, I don’t know where we’d be without you.”

Not on the cusp of being separated, maybe. Not squabbling uselessly with each other. Maybe even Rhodey would still be able to use his legs. Tony’s throat burned.

“Why, why, why, Steve?!” Tony wailed. “Why do you always have to be so good when you’re not?! When I’m not?!”

“I’m sorry, Tony. I should have talked to you sooner, about everything. I should have told you,” Steve said. “But being angry won’t change what me or Hydra or Bucky did to you. It won’t change that I’m not any more good than you are.”

There he went again, putting the blame on his head when it obviously should have been on Tony. Why couldn’t he just blame Tony and get it over with? He deserved to, after all the crap Tony had pulled on missions and with Ultron and everything that had happened in the past day or two. Everything was his fault.

Tony felt his face contort into a shaky scowl. He didn’t know what to do or where to go. He didn’t want to leave and he knew that if he made any moves, he’d only look more pathetic with tears still streaming down his face.

“Tony-” Steve said, reaching forward towards his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Tony barked, flinching back from Steve. 

Steve took the hint and pulled away, but just a second later, Tony came back in to put his arms around Steve. He felt like an idiot, but what else was he supposed to do, cry his eyes out with Steve just standing and watching? If anyone had a right to be crying about his life, it was Steve. What right did he have? Steve didn’t seem to care though. He just kept an arm around Tony and soothed down his scalp and neck.

“I know it hurts,” Steve said. “Making the wrong choices sometimes. God, do I know.”

Steve was a boundless well of goodwill and Tony felt absolutely awful for taking advantage of that. For doubting that. For being so angry at him for the one real mistake he’d made in their time working together. He was angry and he was going to stay angry for long time and Steve didn’t deserve that. Steve hadn’t kept it from him out of spite, he knew, he’d kept it from Tony to avoid a meltdown. To keep exactly what was happening from happening. Steve hadn’t meant to hurt him, even if that didn’t make it any better.

“You’ve done a lot for me, Tony. You mean a lot to me,” Steve continued, voice broken and shaky. “Kills me seeing you like this.”

And then Steve was sobbing too, face pressed gently against Tony’s. It was such a vulnerable position to put themselves in, crying all over each other in some Siberian bunker. It felt good, though, like it had been a long time coming. Like they’d both needed to have this exchange long ago.

“I’m sorry,” Steve gritted out once again. “It was wrong of me, lying like that, and I know I can’t make it up to you.”

“Shut the hell up, Rogers,” Tony said, bumping his forehead up against Steve’s shoulder. “You goddamn Boy Scout. Make one mistake and we both break down.”

“Hell of a mistake,” Steve breathed, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, a choked laugh escaping his throat with a sob. “And I’ve made a hell of alotta mistakes.”

“You never lied to me.”

“God, Steve, you’re so- so-” Tony half-laughed, half-whined and leaned up against Steve. He was solid enough that Tony barely even needed to support himself, armor and all.

Tony never finished his sentence and Steve didn’t say anything more. They stayed where they were, holding each other and sobbing every now and again. Nothing in the world mattered except for the two of them, but for all the worst reasons. Tony didn’t care. He was just glad for someone to cry with. Crying wasn’t something Tony wanted anyone to see from him, but if he was crying with someone then maybe that wasn’t so bad. Especially someone like Steve, who’d been through so much with him. It was okay because it was them. Tony was okay because he had Steve. It was strange, but in Tony’s cloudy, gloom-ridden mind, it made perfect sense. So he pushed his face into Steve’s chest with a whimper and tried not to think about it.

*****

Sooner or later, though, they had to head back towards the bunker’s entrance. Tony had no idea how long it had been. An hour? Two hours? Ten minutes? It didn’t really matter anyway. No one was missing either of them.

They walked with only the clang of their footsteps between them, having said plenty back in the main chamber. Bucky had disappeared, but Steve didn’t seem worried so Tony wasn’t going to bring it up. Hell, neither of them seemed to even care where Zemo had gotten to. Nothing really mattered then except the two of them.

They made it to the entrance way, but stopped there. Steve looked at Tony and Tony looked at Steve. An unspoken question passed between them: what now?

“Well,” Tony started, letting out a puff of air through his nose. “That wasn’t exactly what I’d call talking about our problems like adults.”

“Maybe not,” Steve said with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean it didn’t need to happen.”

“Would have been nice to get it done without making a mess of ourselves.”

“Yeah. But I can think of worse ways that could have gone.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, a jolt of dread going through him. Steve was right. That exchange could have gone so much worse. It could have ended in a bloodbath, for all he knew. The thought gave him chills.

“Still pissed at Barnes. And you,” he added, evading eye contact.

“I know,” Steve said, following Tony’s gaze. “I don’t blame you.”

“But I’m not gonna hurt him,” Tony said, a little too fast. “That’d be- it’d be stupid. Too easy.”

“Thank you.” Steve shook his head with a light sigh. “I really let you down, Tony, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, don’t do that,” Tony pleaded, turning back to look at Steve again. “It’s- it’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like I’ve never let you down. I’ve let a lot of people down, you have no idea, I don’t deserve-”

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve hissed. “Stop. You don’t deserve to get stepped on, you don’t deserve to be lied to, no matter what’s happened.”

“How would you know?” Tony asked flatly.

“I know you,” Steve said, like it was that simple. “I know you and I know you’re a good person. One of the best men I’ve ever known and I’ve known a lot of people, Tony. Maybe you don’t think so, but I’m pretty confident on this one.”

Tony felt his throat tighten once again. What could he say to that? Arguing with Steve was like arguing with a machine; you might win in the end, but you’d feel like an idiot no matter what. He didn’t want to do any more arguing so he figured it was better to shift gears.

“The team is still fractured,” he said, a little too quickly. “You’re gonna have to go underground and I’m stuck-”

“It’s not fractured,” Steve broke in. “Not in spirit.”

Tony let out a snort. Sometimes he forgot how corny Steve could be. “You think so?” 

“I know so. Zemo was counting on driving a wedge between us.”

“Well, he kinda did,” Tony said with a shrug.

“Yeah. But it sure wasn’t in his plan for us to work things out right after his final play.” Steve gave an unsettled laugh as he spoke. “I mean, do you think there’s still a wedge between us? Not the team, just us.”

“I-” Tony wanted to say yes, if only out of some misplaced spite. He couldn’t, though, not with how much they’d opened up to each other in the past however-long-it-had-been alone. “No. Feels like we’re closer than ever, really.”

“So that’s not just me,” Steve said. “Huh.”

“Nope,” Tony confirmed with a click of his tongue. “Weird.”

“Weird.”

The word hung in the air and they shared a long look between them. Steve gave him a pensive smile, like he had something more to say. Tony hoped he looked even half as thoughtful. He knew he was smiling, half-smiling at least, but he felt terribly out of his element. Maybe he should do something, say something, make the first-

As his thoughts raced, Steve came forward and pulled him into an embrace once more. It was just as awkward as the initial hold Steve had put him in, but it wasn’t the same. It was gentler and felt more out of a want for closeness than a need to comfort. Tony reached up with one arm to return to hug. That was what it was; not an embrace or a hold, just a hug. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. Not one this genuine and warm and loving. It was a gift and he wasn’t about to pass it up. So Tony pressed his cheek to Steve’s collarbone and let Steve brush the side of his face up against his own. It was weird and different, but Tony didn’t care. That didn’t matter right then.

They kept up the hug for only about a minute before Steve let go and Tony followed suit. He was a little disappointed, but they had been there for far too long already. 

“So,” Tony said, gaze shifting to the door out. “This is goodbye then.”

“No. Not at all.” Steve walked towards the exit, but never took his attention off of Tony. “It’s just until next time.”

He shoved the door open and took a step out, but not before turning back with a smile.

“See you, Tony,” he said with a quick wave. Then he was gone. Just gone out into the snow.

“Next time,” Tony said, the sound echoing around him. Suddenly the bunker seemed a lot bigger and a lot colder. Time to go.

He made his way outside and took off immediately. If he lingered, there was a chance that he might catch sight of Steve and Bucky or anyone still around. Chances were, they or T’Challa would take care of Zemo. He wasn’t even supposed to be in Siberia, after all.

Really, Tony just wanted to go home and think right then. He’d spend some time with Rhodey and maybe even Peter, but he definitely needed to take a couple days to himself. It had been a hell of a couple weeks and he was tired. Not even sullen or angry or sad anymore, just tired. He’d miss Steve, but at least he knew that they’d reunite someday. His cynical side reminded him that it wouldn’t be for a long while, but, frankly, Tony was sick of his cynicism’s crap. He wanted to look forward to the future for once in his life and dammit, that was what he was going to do. Or he would after a very long nap.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, the more I think about it, most of Civil War's conflict could have been avoided if everyone just communicated better. And if someone would talk to Tony because that man needed to be pulled aside, given a hug, and told that he doesn't need to feel guilty. You cannot tell me he was okay during Civil War, he wasn't, he was feeling horrible and you can't expect a person to hold that forever and not break.
> 
> Excuse my rambling, Civil War stabbed me in the heart and what hurts me is that, logically, it didn't need to. I know it needed to for the sake of drama and excitement, but it didn't need to end on such a bitter note. Or maybe I'm totally wrong and someone will tell me in the comments.
> 
> In any case, critique is very welcome and comments of any kind make me feel like what I'm doing isn't so pointless.


End file.
